


Something Less Ironic

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Sburb, music fic kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dave Strider and there are two things that people should know about you: you suck at playing the guitar, and you are fucking head-over-heels for your best friend, John Egbert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first John/Dave story! It's only going to be about three chapters long, and the first two I initially had up on a writing blog on tumblr.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story! (also, i know zip about guitars.)

Your name is Dave Strider, and damn, do you love John Egbert.

You have never told him this, not like you would in the first place. But after three years of not actually seeing him in person, you feel like you’re getting pretty damn close to 'fessing up. You could never tell him anyways; he would probably laugh and think you were joking or some dumb shit like that—(he’s all about jokes and pranks, that kid,)—and it’s beginning to weigh on your mind more and more as time goes on. If you were to say ‘I love you’ or anything even along those lines, it would just come out so fucking ironic and he probably wouldn’t take you seriously anyways, and God, you do not _want_ that.

But you are now 16 years old, and you find yourself thinking about this on the very night you and John meet in person.

Somehow, and for some goofy reason, you and he are on your stomachs and leaning on your elbows, facing each other, underneath his bed covers.

He’s just fanboying and freaking the hell out over some Nic Cage photo-autobiography book shit that you happened to pick up on the way over to Washington, because you know so damn well what that guy’s cup of tea is, and to be honest, it’s pretty easy to please a guy like him. You don’t get what it is about his thing for terrible movies and the equally-as-terrible actors, (and it’s not even ironically terrible, they are just _terrible_. Or maybe it’s ironic that they’re not even ironically terrible? Shit, how does that even make _sense_ ,) but if it makes John so happy like that, then it must be pretty fucking worth it. You even got a signed copy, damn it; John’s going to be flipping his shit all over the place.

Anyways, since you and John are under his bed covers and all, it’s pretty dark, so you’re dangling a flashlight from your fingers so he can actually see what he’s looking at. He’s so excited, you think, smirking to yourself. You think it’s hilarious how excited he gets over simple things like this.

In between you two is this yellow salamander thing that’s always blowing large-as-shit spit bubbles; John says he named her Casey, and he “adopted” her from the Land of Wind and Shade. You think Casey’s kinda’ weird, but in this ironically cute way, (or maybe the other way around, even). After thinking that, you realize she reminds you a bit of John, and you laugh to yourself quietly because you think it’s pretty fucking accurate.

“Hey, what’re you laughing about, Dave?” John asks suddenly, and you look at him through your shades, the very same pair he gave you on your birthday, three years ago. His light blue eyes are big with curiosity, as they struggle to meet yours, which won’t happen because of the shades you are wearing, obviously, but you can see his eyes perfectly fine, and God, they are just amazing. You allow yourself to get lost in them for just a split second before responding.

“…Nothing. Just keep on reading that, okay?” You say, covering up your grin with your free hand, trying as hard as possible not to lose your shit. John is just too fucking adorable, and it’s beginning to kill you.

“Oh man, are you sure?” He looks at you a bit worried, but with a small grin on his face. “Dave, it’s just, you got me this _great_ gift and all, and geez, it’s Nicolas Cage and everything!!” he begins to get all excited all over again, if he wasn’t already enough. “I mean, man, my gift for you isn’t even ready yet!”

“Relax, Egbert. It’s cool.” You say with a wave of your hand. You don’t even stop to think about his unfinished gift. Honestly, you could care less about what he’s getting you; you’re just glad to be here with him. And _fuck_ , that was as corny as shit, and you curse yourself a little bit.

“Why are we under here, anyways?”

He just laughs his dorky little laugh in response, and you want to laugh too because this is all pretty stupidly ironic. You wish you could tell him, but you can’t. John would never feel the same way about you in a million years for a million different reasons, (you two both being male, for starters,) and even though it hurts just a bit inside, you can’t get this damn grin off your face because it’s just you and him, and no Rose Lalonde or Jade Harley, or Terezi Pyrope, or any of the obnoxious trolls—it is just you and him, and you are so madly in _love_ with John Egbert that it almost kills you.

But behind those shades, no one would ever guess. You are the fucking _master_ at keeping your shit together, and you intend to keep it that way.

In what seems like five minutes, two hours have gone by. You and John are done being under that blanket, after he began to complain how it was too hot. You were pretty used to it though, from the Land of Heat and Clockwork.

You’re in your pajamas, and he is too. He’s on the edge of his bed, and you against the pillows, chatting about whatever he has to talk about. You realize that you could just listen to him talk for ever and you’d be pretty fucking okay with that, and he’d be pretty fucking okay with that too, for some reason. Or at least, that’s what you think, because you’ve been doing so for the past three hours—just listening to him ramble on and on, nonstop.

And you think that somehow, this situation is just the slightest bit intimate. He probably doesn’t know of your feelings for him—well, you hope to God he doesn’t—but you two are sitting on the same bed and everything, in an empty house by yourselves. That’s also when you realize that there’s only one bed in his bedroom, and probably in the entire house, since he’s an only child. (Non-ectobiologically, that is.)

Suddenly, he’s running around the room from wall to wall, trying to decide where to put this poster of Nic Cage that came with the book, and you’re just watching him freak out over it.

“Dave, where do you think I should put it?” he asks you, and you tune out of your creepy staring-at-Egbert trance to focus on him.

“Huh.”

“Should it go here? Or here?” He asks excitedly, holding the poster to the middle of the wall across from you.

“Does it matter where it goes?”

John’s mouth scrunches up a bit and gives you an are-you-seriously-asking-me-that? look. He says, “Of course it—ah, damn it!!”

Without noticing what he was doing, John’s elbow hits the lamp off his shelf and falls to the floor with a crash, knocking the lights out, thus shrouding the room in darkness.

“Oh, man!” He looks left and right before putting the poster down carefully, and kneeling down to pick up the lamp. “I hope it’s not broken…”

“Nice going.” You laugh, and finally stand up to help him, because you feel like a jerk just lazing around and not doing anything, (although John seems pretty happy regardless).

“Sh-Shut up!!” He replies in slight embarrassment, but with a laugh as well, and you can’t help but to laugh too. God, you feel so fucking happy when he’s happy, you just can’t help it. You are just so happy in that one moment and that is all you are feeling; some perpetual happiness that won’t go away. It’s like the emotion puked up all its shit on you, and you can’t take enough showers to get it all off, not even disinfecting works.

He sets the lamp back up on the shelf, but doesn’t turn it back on.

“Say, maybe we should get some sleep? It’s getting late!” He suggests with an excited smile, and you are slightly taken aback, but nod anyways.

“Sure.”

“I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed, Dave! I’ve only got one bed, after all…” He laughs, pulling the comforter down a bit, and then adds, “...No homo, of course.”

“It’s cool, man.” You reassure him, although part of you is kind of freaking out. You really hope you don’t do anything reckless.

Within a few minutes, you and he are under the covers, bodies a few inches apart, and he is _still_ talking.

“I let Casey sleep with me because she’s pretty picky about where she sleeps. She likes it best in my arms, which is pretty cute, hehe!” He laughs as he places his glasses down on his nightstand, and you look over, your arms folded behind your neck as a headrest.

“Right. Just make sure she doesn’t make any spit bubbles in my face, ‘kay.”

“She won’t! She’s pretty good about all that and stuff.” John pets the yellow salamander’s head and holds her close to his chest as he shimmies down under the covers, till he’s lying flat on his back. You kind of stare at him for a moment.

But of course, John notices this; his eyes wander up towards yours, curiously, and he stares at you for just a few seconds as well. (You are staring back, but he probably can’t tell because of your shades.)

“Say, Dave…”

“Huh.”

You look down at him, and he gives you this toothy grin, reaching out from under the covers to point up at you. “Are those the same shades I gave you back then?”

“Maybe.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you still had them! Why are you wearing them? Still just for ironic reasons?” He laughs a bit, and you turn away, shifting the shades on your face.

“No shit. Why else would I be wearing them?”

 _Because you gave them to me,_ you think.

“Can I see what you look like with them off?” John asks, sitting up a bit, Casey rolling off his chest and in between you and him, making obscure noises.

You are suddenly very insecure.

“…Nope. Sorry.” Is your response, and he shakes his head, laughing some more.

“No, come on! Take them off!”

“Nope.”

Casey is beginning to blow spit bubbles in a frenzy now that John is fully facing you and kind of messing up the positions that each of you had originally. He’s reaching out to take the shades off your face, but you keep inching away slowly, but without reacting too much.

To be honest, you’re sort of losing your shit.

“Fine, I’ll take them off. Jegus, control yourself, John.” You sigh inaudibly, and reach up to take them off. You don’t want to; you hardly ever _do_. But John is being persistent, and you find yourself giving into him. He seems so excited, so curious, and God, does it kill you to see him like that.

Your hands are pausing, right as they touch the rims of your shades, and you’re seriously debating whether or not to take them off. You’d rather not—if John sees the rest of your face, you may not be able to look like you’re keeping your cool around him anymore.

 _Jegus fuck,_ you think, _I really don’t want to take these off, but…_

“C’mon! What’re you waiting for?” John asks, leaning forward in excitement, but you lean away, dropping your hands into your lap.

“Sorry. I don’t wanna’ take them off. You’ll have to give me three boonbucks.”

“What!” John laughs, looking at you comically. “I don’t even have that much anymore! I spent a lot of it on stuff in the Land of Wind and Shade for Casey and the other salamanders…”

“Oops. Too bad.”

“Fine!!” John gives you look, (but he’s obviously trying not to grin,) and then purses his lips a little, lies back down, and places Casey back on his chest. “Well, okay then! Are you gonna lie down too or what, Dave?” He’s back to smiling, as if he forgot the whole thing. You like that about him—how he forgives and forgets. At least he doesn’t push you too much.

“Maybe. I need to use your bathroom.” You actually don’t, but you just want to get some fresh air, to be honest. To clear your mind.

“Oh. Well, okay! You know where it is!”

You nod and leave the room, closing the door behind you. You lean against the hard surface, the back of your head lightly hitting it. You sigh heavily and stand there for a moment, just listening to the silence. You can faintly hear John talking to Casey through the door, though, and you decide to listen in.

 _That dork,_ you think, laughing to yourself a bit.

You hear small bits of what he’s saying:

“…my best friend, y’know?”

“…yeah! You like him, don’t you, Casey?”

You keep standing, your head still, your breath held.

“…been so quiet tonight. I wonder if he’s okay?”

“…”

“…hehe, you think? He might just be tired from the game and all, I guess!”

Your eyebrows furrow as your drop your head down, looking to the floor. He actually understands the salamander, and you find that a little weird but cool at the same time.

“…like being with him! So it’s okay, heheh.”

From what you heard, those words stop your heart, and you hold your breath for a moment longer. You realize that of course he’d like being with you, since you’re friends and all, but you can’t help but to feel he meant it like…

“…wonder what’s taking him so long? I bet he’s constipated or cleaning of his shades or something.” John laughs and you hear some weird gurgling noises that you assume are Casey.

 _Shit,_ you think anxiously, instantly leaving your spot and speed-walking down the hallway, quickly retreating to a different room. However, when you open the door, a gust of cool air hits you in the face, the smell of grass and dew, the night shade, and faint smoke. You’re on John’s balcony, about the size of a small room. You immediately think that this is where his alchemizer was placed, and all that other shit that had to be used for Sburb.

Off in the corner of the balcony, you notice as you walk further, is a guitar that appears as if it were thrown down carelessly. You slip your hands into your pants pocket and stride over to it to take a look.

You don’t know much about how to play guitar, (frankly, you could care less about junk like that—you’ve got your own turntables and all that cool shit,) but the urge to try it out is overwhelming. No one is looking anyways. So you reach down, taking one hand out of your pocket to pick the guitar up by the handle, and then you sit down on the floor, crossing your legs, the guitar resting comfortably in your lap. You look at the strings, and hold the top of the guitar. You have no idea what part is which, and what part is called what, and you definitely have no fucking idea whatsoever as to how to play the damn thing, but you hold it anyways and lightly strum the strings with your fingertips, and the sound that is made hurts your ears, like someone took their nails and scraped them down a chalkboard, but you keep going.

You play a random tune for a few minutes, until your hands are kind of really doing their own thing, and you began to stare over at the rest of his suburban neighborhood, a little lost in the scenery. Each house is the same size, the same height, same width. The lawns are all identical and the cars are neatly parked in their respective driveways. The sky is getting dark, actually, it got dark a long time ago, but the streetlights make the sky look a bit lighter, and the tiny stars are out, scattered and sprinkled across the night sky, and it all feels just a tad bit nostalgic to you; a sudden wave of sadness washes over you.

It reminds you of the life you had before Sburb, something more of an everyday strife-match with Bro and smuppet ass everywhere, ninja swords and shit, and everything was ironic and cool. But now, you’ve grown up a little bit, and you feel completely changed.  You’re not quite sure what, and you don’t even want to spend that much time thinking about nostalgic shit and stuff, but you know a few things haven’t changed, and you know them right off the top of your head.

You look back down at the guitar and close your eyes, your hand holding the strings in place now; no more sound is being made.

Your name is Dave Strider and God _damn it,_ you will never stop loving John Egbert, and that is pretty much the one thing that hasn’t changed about you, you realize as you stare up at the sky above you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Dave Strider and you are getting a bit better at the guitar. Also, you still are fucking head-over-heels for John Egbert.

Your name is Dave Strider, and jegus _fuck,_ you suck at playing the guitar.

But you keep on playing anyways, because it’s relaxing, and somehow, it seems to fit your mood. You feel a little bit lost, empty, but full of emotion, and the feeling of not knowing what to do. What _can_ you do? You don’t know what. You feel like you might have to give up on having feelings for John sooner or later, because no way in paradox space will he ever love you back. You two are like inseparable bros, if anything. You got each other’s back, ( _man,_ do you have his back—) you take care of each other, fight alongside each other—you’re each other’s bestest friend, destined to be intertwined by the threads of fate for eternity.

…But probably not romantically.

A pain-stricken look crosses your face instantly, and you look down at your legs, still crossed. They’re getting stiff, but you’ve stopped caring. You don’t really give a fuck, to be perfectly honest.

But suddenly, you hear a _clack_ and footsteps behind you.

“Hey, Dave! What’re you doing?”

Startled, you stop playing the guitar and nearly jump out of your skin. Turning around, you see John standing in the doorway with his eyebrows raised at you, confused. He’s still in his pajamas, and Casey isn’t with him.

“Playing the guitar. What does it look like?”

“Haha, obviously.” He walks forward to sit down next to you, on your right. “But why out here, though? It’s kinda cold.”

Your fingers are on the strings again, and the temptation to play the guitar is there once more, but you don’t want to play in front of John. Or maybe you do. You can’t decide fast enough, so your fingers begin to move on their own, and you’re playing the guitar (as horribly as you make it sound,) before you realize it.

John glances over at you, quietly, waiting for you to speak up, but you don’t. You don’t feel like talking at all, really, and there's not much to be said in the first place; you just want John to stay there right next to you. He’s not even a foot away, and he’s sitting there and you feel close again. You like it when he’s near you, and you can’t help but to feel your heart pumping faster, just for that sole reason.

 “You kinda’ suck at it, Dave.” John laughs, bending forward. You stop playing again and turn to face him. Your eyes are narrowed, but he can’t tell because of your shades. Remembering that he wanted to see you with them off, you quickly turn away as to not remind him.

“Hah. Like you’re any good at it?”

“Hell no!” He laughs, grinning at you. “It was my dad’s. I’ll stick to the piano, thank you very much, heheh.”

“Then I’ll stick to my turntables and sick fires.”

“Wait!” John says suddenly, and you are caught off guard when he grabs your arm a bit tight. You stare at him through your shades, scarlet eyes wide, and he scrunches his mouth to one side.

John’s grip on your arm loosens, but he doesn’t let go. “Keep playing. My um, dad won’t be, uh, using it any…more…” He drops his gaze for a moment, and even you feel your own chest ache for him, but you don’t change your facial expression. He looks back up, smiling a bit painfully. “Y’know? Keep playing, Dave.”

You continue to look at him, with no exact expression on your face, but slowly your eyebrows cross a bit before you turn away. “I can hardly play it right, Egbert, the fuck?” You stifle back a laugh a bit, and he looks at you, surprised.

“No, really! I think you can do it; you’ll learn. Just keep playinggg!”

You sigh heavily, shaking your head, slapping your palm back onto the strings. “Fine then. Just keep your pants on, man, jegus.”

You begin to play once again, slightly better than before, but you’re only playing the same chords over and over again. You have no idea what you’re doing, but everything sounds the same in your ears. Guitars really aren’t your thing, to be honest, but if John wanted you to try it out, it was worth a shot. You didn’t look away from the guitar at first, just to get a sense of what you were doing to an extent, but eventually you looked up and over at John for a moment, him staring out at the neighborhood, blankly. He had his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting on his knees, and his chin tucked into them, as if he were deep in thought or fucking depressed or _something_.

You realize that you’ve never really seen him look like that before, and you get a little worried. That is, you get worried till he looks over at you and gives you a grin and thumbs up. You return a half-smile instantly, and look back down at the strings to see what you were doing, because your hand started to slip a little bit. (His smile is just a little bit _too_ adorable, and fuck, sometimes you just can’t focus because of it.)

“Dave,”

“Mn.” Your fingertips are still plucking the strings, the soft hum becoming more natural and not as crappy.

“You’re not _thaaaat_ bad at it, hehe.”

“Well, shit. I’m incredibly honored, Egbert.”

“…”

“…”

“…Dave.”

“Huh.”

You stop playing for a moment to give John your full attention. He’s staring at you a little intently, a little serious, and you catch your breath.

“Can you take off your shades?” He asks you, and you look into his eyes for a moment. He’s completely serious. He wants to see you with your shades off. _His_ shades even, considering he was the one who gave them to you. Damn, you would do anything to take them off for him. But you don’t for some reason.

“Not now.”

“Later, then?”

“…Sure.”

“Really? I can’t wait to see!” He grins big at you, his face lighting up instantly, and for a moment you realize that his whole serious-guy thing may have been an act, a prank. You furrow your eyebrows at him a bit, and he turns way, still looking at you with a grin on his face. “…Hehe.”

Your name is Dave Strider and you love John Egbert so much, you want to break the guitar you are currently holding in _half_ because _christ_ you just love him too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third and last chapter is in the process of being written.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Dave Strider and you realize two things: you are getting pretty badass at the guitar by now, and your best friend John Egbert is pretty much as stubborn as you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time!

Your name is Dave Strider and you think you're getting a whole lot better at playing guitar.  
  
You've been at it for about an hour now, and seriously, the only thing that's really going on is John talking about his movies and shit. You're kind of tuning in and out of whatever he's rambling about, occasionally hearing him talk excitedly about a shitty movie star from one of his shitty films, and you can't help but think about how stupid everything feels, along with the fact that this has pretty much been your entire night; getting all misty-eyed about John and stuff. Makes you feel pretty uncool and you don't like that.  
  
But at the same time, you do not give a single fuck about it.  
  
You're gonna act cool about being uncool, act as if you've got it all under control, as if nothing ever has happened. Actually, it won't even be acting. You will be under control. Just like taking an eraser to the paper--everything disappears and no one remembers a fucking thing that happened.  
You wish you could do the same about your goddamn feelings for John, but _fuck_ they will not go away. How could you ever expect them to, anyways. How could you not have a single ounce of emotion for that kid. John Egbert. Fuck, even thinking his name makes your heart skip a beat and your skin crawl uncomfortably.  
  
You want to break the guitar you're holding. You're becoming so overwhelmed with emotion, and you kind of hate it to be honest, but the damn thing isn't even your guitar, it's not even John's; it's his dead father's probably prized possession and you'd feel like a huge dick on fucking wheels if you broke it in half. You saw the way John's eyes welled up when he mentioned his dad, the way he just drooped like one of those fucking willow trees or shit, the way he got all depressed and everything. You aren't just gonna go crush the thing in half, you're just gonna play the heart out of that thing for John, until he's fucking pleased with your terrible, nonexistant guitar-playing abilities, and damn it all if you don't think you're the least bit good at it.  
  
"Daaaaaave..." He groans after a moment, and you nearly jump out of your skin, your fingers tripping on the strings.  
  
"What," it's more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Can we go inside now? We've been out here for a loooong time, man!"  
  
"What, so you can go watch your sappy Nic Cage movies and shit?"  
  
He gives you something of a smirk and giggles. "...What makes you think that? That's so stupid."  
  
"Yeah, and you're stupid, too." You say, hitting on the head lightly and he laughs.  
  
"No, c'mon! It's about time I make you watch Con Air!!"  
  
"You made me watch it two years ago, remember? Christ, you even made me watch it on my fucking birthday." You scoff while rolling your eyes. "Worst birthday ever."  
  
" _Buuut_ I got you those headphones you REALLY wanted soooo?" He says in this sing-songy voice and you chuckle a bit.  
  
"Yeah, those were pretty fucking awesome; thanks for that."  
  
"So c'mon!" He jumps up and extends his arm for you to grab his hand, and you let him pull you up, the guitar in your left hand. "Let's go watch it before it's too late!!"  
  
"Dude, it's already half past midnight or some shit; how late do you plan on staying up?"  
  
"Well, Dave, since it's the first time we've ever met each other, I think we should celebrate by pulling an all-nighter!" He grins and you snort. There's no way he's going to stay up all night; he'll probably konk out way before you do (assuming you do at all).  
  
"Yeah, we'll see about that. You should know that I'm the master at pulling all-nighters, Egbert."

"So am I!"

"Yeah, except there can only be one master at this art, dumbass."

"Hehe, so it's a bet."  
  
"Yeah." You give him a sideways-glance as you stand next to him, just about to walk up the few steps and inside the house. He gives you an excited grin and holds out his fist, and you bump it with yours.  
  
"You're on!!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Oops.  
>  So turns out, this is going to be longer than three chapters?? I guess that's okay though! The more the better, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah sorry for the delayed update!! I got kinda stuck with this chapter, but I finally sat down and finished it, hehe. Anyways, it's gonna be about five chapters, the next one being the last!

Your name is Dave Strider and you feel like tonight will be a long night.

"Jegus Christ, Egbert, when did you get so kickass at this game," you say under your breath, your fingers violently pressing each button, your thumb constantly flicking the joystick back and forth. The two of you were parked in front of this new TV that he got in his bedroom, sitting on his bed, and playing Super Smash Bros. Brawl.

"I made sure Karkat got his troll version or whatever so I could practice!" John answers cheerfully and you can hear the smile in his voice. You can practically see it. "He's pretty aggressive at this game."

"When is he not aggressive? Makes him such a dick." You say, the side of your mouth twitching up in a smirk.

"Actually, though...!" John laughs as his character (he was playing as Yoshi,) headbutts you off the stage, resulting in you swearing silently. "But it's okay, and he's not a dick all the time, Dave."

"I think you mean, most of the time."

"Only to you."

"Only to just about _everyone_."

John has nothing to say to that one.

After playing about an hour or two of brawl into the early morning, the two of you stop for a breather. Your lay down on your back against his bed and he does too, and both of you just kinda lay there for a moment in silence.

"What happened to us watching Con Air," You ask dryly out of nowhere, and John sighs heavily, although it's more like a blissful sigh.

"Beeeest for laaaast."

"Tch."

"..."

"..."

"Tired yet, Dave?"

"Nope."

"..."

"..."

"...Are you suuure." John nudges you in the rib with his elbow and you roll over to face him, leaning your palm against your cheek, elbow bent.

"Yep. Don't tell me you're tired, John."

"I'm not!"

"The night's only got started; are you sure you're ready to go on? Shit's gon' get serious. This is some serious business going down."

"Fuck yeah!" He exclaims enthusiastically with a air fist-pump and you laugh. He's such a dork sometimes.

Actually, you take that back-- he's a dork all the time.

"Where's the snacks, Egbert? I'm getting hungry." You say while flopping onto your back and waving your hand in the air at him.

John grins at you before saying, "Oh, I've got plenty, Dave! I've got your favorites."

"Psh. I have no favorites."

"Yes you do, I know you do."

"Wow, rude. I don't pick fucking favorites, John. Think of all those unloved snacks, only wanting to be fucking loved by someone all their life."

"That has nothing to do with it, Dave."

"It has everything to do with it."

All of a sudden, a smirk crosses John's face and you raise your eyebrows at him in question.

"We've got cheeeeetoooos."

You are on top of him in an instant, punching him in the shoulder playfully and wrestling him, the pillows and blankets on his bed getting a little screwed around in terms of placement.

"Where they at, Egbert? C'mon, tell me, man, tell me. You can tell a bro."

"Oh my God, Dave, calm down!!" He laughs, pushing you and wrestling you over on your back. "They're just Cheetos."

"I can hear them calling my name, John. They long for my presence. I can't keep them waiting any longer."

"You'll have to fight me!!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Egbert, aren't we doing that already?"

He just laughs out maybe a little bit too loud which is perfectly fine, because man, do you love his laugh. You shove him over before he can notice your cheeks turning the lightest bit red--considering the fact he's inches from your face and on top of you, how could you not?

You and him continue to wrestle around a bit till both of you fall off the bed in a heap of two hot, sweaty, and laughing teenage boys. (Only much less gross-sounding than that.)

"Fuck, just give me the cheetos, John," you pant, a little aggravated by now, and he just laughs breathlessly, probably too exhausted to untangle himself and roll over.

"Help, Dave..."

"What."

"I fallen and I can't get up..."

"Oh, fuck you, Egbert. I'll get them myself then." You say, beginning to pull your arm out from underneath his back, and he follows suit.

John lifts his arm with a lazy smile on his face and points to somewhere on the other side of the room, where you spot the bag. "They're over there, man. All for you."

"Thanks, man."

"Heheh. I told you you had favorites."

You mumble something incoherent back through a mouthful of cheetos as you flop onto his bed, using your arm as a headrest and placing the bag right next to you. John peeks over the side of the bed with a grin, and you eye him carefully, even though he won't be able to tell through your shades, obviously. (You push the nagging thought of the promise you made to him of taking them off further into the back of your mind.)

He continues to stare at you while you eat the cheetos, and you raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"What?" you say finally, and he giggles, hopping onto the bed with something in his hand which happens to look an awful lot like--

Oh God.

Oh _God_ no.

"Egbert, we are not watching Con Air. No."

"Yesss. This is a thing that is _happening_ , Dave!"

"Except not." You push him away when he scoot stowards you, shoving that God awful piece of shit movie in your face.

"Aw, c'mon!" John pouts a bit, his two little buck teeth biting his lower lip and wow _shit_ that is _adorable as fuck_ and your mind goes completely blank after that for some dumb reason. Luckily, the absence of you speaking is filled with him adding in, "I got you your cheetos, so you have to watch it!"

You snap out of it to retort, "That's what best bros are for, man."

"They're also for watching Con Air--a Nicolas Cage masterpiece-- together!"

"Con Air sucks ass."

"It is a movie classic, Dave!"

You are about to say something in return to convince John that, no, Con Air is no way a movie classic, but then he continues to give you this look that you can't stand to look at for more than a second because it is just too _goddamn adorable_ so fuck it, you just give in to his crazy shenanigans and shit.

But whatever, right? It's what best bros do.

 

Your name is Dave Strider and you are actually making yourself go through this, ("this" being watching Con Air, the worst movie in the entire universe,) because damn, you love John Egbert that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Opposed to Dave's opinion, I actually really enjoyed watching Con Air, OKAY........
> 
> i cried too)
> 
> ...I MEAN WHAT.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um, longest chapter yet? cool!!  
> also, I realize I am not the best writer, so thank you all for reading this far!!!! you guys are the best, ok!

Your name is Dave Strider and jesus christ, Con Air is the worst movie to ever grace the earth with it's shittiness.

You try to watch it anyways.

Besides John's commentary which you find kind of hilarious alone, you cannot even find an ounce of irony in the threads of this movie. You know a movie sucks when you can't even watch it for ironic purposes. (You're actually watching it for John, you remind yourself slowly.) John keeps saying 'ohman' over and over, ten times fast and really loudly at the intense, violent parts, and you find it a little difficult to believe that he's still so into this movie after watching it God-only-knows-how-many times. He has his knees bent towards his chest and his arms wrapped around them tightly as he leans forwards in anticipation, his eyes wide and glued to the screen, and at some parts, he quotes a character's line also really loudly (and a bit proudly, making him sound like a _major_ dork--which you love,) and you resist the need to do a double facepalm combo. However, one hand remains on your lap and the other hanging off the edge of the bed. You constantly glance over at John, only a little bit worried that he may just roll off the bed headfirst (but you don't say a thing). You hope to God he doesn't, but even if he does, you know you have fast enough reflexes to catch him. (Or try to, and not land on the floor in a tangled mess yet again.)

You eat the cheetos, exasperated.

With a quiet sigh, you lean against the wall, your spine curving so only a part of it is actually touching the surface, and cross your arms loosely. You're at the part in the movie when the guy Nic Cage acts as ("his name is Cameron Poe, Dave!!!") is underneath a truck with this old man, asking him for something to help his bro with the diabetes out.

You think.

You're hardly paying attention, (you're mostly just observing John and everything he's doing--) and it's kind of a miracle that you were even able to pull that much information from the movie. Actually, even getting this far without falling asleep is a pretty huge feat. You've surprised yourself immensely, so in your head, you give yourself nothing short of the best of fist bumps. Ohh yeah.

You fall asleep within two minutes.

You dream something totally random and spontaneous that you do not remember when John shakes you awake. Eyes fluttering open to the sight of Egbert's shadowed face in the dark, the only source of light being the TV's bluish screen, you realize you had fallen asleep. Damn it.

"Wow, Dave, you konked out already!" John says with an attempted whisper, probably trying to respect the fact that you were just sleeping. Then again, he's literally sitting on you, so you're not ENTIRELY sure about that. "I was surprised you even lasted that long during the movie!" He laughs and you shove him back with one hand, fixing your shades with the other as you try to sit up.

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck you too."

John purses his lips a little bit before laughing again, crawling backwards off of you. You realize within an instant that you kind of miss his warmth on top of you, and damn it that sounds awkward. You clear your throat in an effort to avoid any lingering thoughts and face him, as he begins to speak again.

"So I take it that means I win the all-nighter challenge?" He looks up at you through his lashes with a sly little grin on his cute face and _fuck_ if he isn't the most adorable thing ever, even when he's teasing and trying to get a rise out of you, which you find makes him a little bit more attractive.

Okay, maybe a lot, but whatever.

"Psh. Nah, man, that was a fluke. Any normal human being would fall asleep during the shittiest movie on the planet."

John smacks you with a pillow, hard. "Oh, shut up, Dave!!! You _know_ Con Air is a good movie!"

"Yeah, and so are all those other films you like." You say loftily, and are rewarded with another pillow-to-face impact.

"Wow, rude!" He says, slightly laughing because he knows you're kidding, even if the movies he likes are just plain god awful. You crack a smile just a tiny bit, and he sees it, beaming. "Anyways, what do you want to do now, huh?"

"I dunno," you say, rubbing the back of your head in thought. John really should have planned this out sooner. "Get some grub? I'm starving."

John grins at you, showing all of his pearly whites, including those huge buck teeth up front. "You got it, dude."

 

After rummaging through the kitchen for even just the slightest trace of actual food, ("There's only cake mix in here, jeez!" "Maybe you should start doing the shopping, Egbert." "I think I might!!") the two of you return to his room, where you find yourselves playing MarioKart, and indulging yourselves in massive amounts of unhealthy snacks, (which were found, conspiculously stashed underneath the sink).

You and Egbert enjoy yourselves for a while longer, until he casually starts a whole new conversation, ending the one you were just having.

"Dave," he says, a little tentatively, but also a bit confident, like he's been steeling himself to talk about this for a while.

Neither of you turn away from the screen, but you answer with a slight grunt as you down a Sprite with your left hand while your right handles the A button.

"Have you ever liked a girl?"

You do a complete and total spit-take.

"W- _What?_ " You ask, sputtering a little bit and wiping your mouth, desperately trying to keep your cool as you stare at him wide-eyed from behind your shades.

John is laughing under his breath from your reaction, but he quickly recovers to say with a shy smile, "Well, yeah! Have you? I mean, we're both sixteen year-old teenagers, it's like the prime time for high school romance..." He trails off, his focus returning to the game instead of your freaking-out.

"Egbert, I swear to God, if I didn't know any better, I would have guessed that you decided to watch some of Vantas' shitty romcoms," you say, but also knowing that he's serious. Maybe? He brought it up so damn casually, and you were caught off guard, that's all. Seriously, you should be good at this kind of thing. You mentally kick yourself in the shins for not expecting a feelings jam. "Of course I've liked a girl."

"Terezi doesn't count!"

"What the fuck, Egbert, TZ _is_ a girl; are _you_ the blind one? Jesus christ."

John manages to slap you on the arm playfully before he launches out a blue shell, already hurtling it's way towards you. You cringe and make an effort to slow down and relapse into second place, while still close to first.

"Well, she's still a troll! And, I dunno, I mean..." He makes some uncertain movement with his head. "You two never became a... _thing_."

"Doesn't mean I didn't like her, bro." You say, deadpan.

"I guess..." He pauses and the two of you don't really say anything for a minute or two, just a few swears and grunts of disapproval as the third lap begins.

Jesus, that conversation got awkward fast. You feel just the slightest bit uncomfortable, mostly because of his question, _and_ because of the way he worded it. "Like a girl"--you like a _boy_ , and that lucky kid happens to be sitting less than a foot away from you, damnit.

"Do you like anyone?" You decide to ask, very coolly, because you are Dave motherfucking Strider and you cannot afford to freak out again like you did a few minutes ago.

John quirks a little bit, a little awkwardly, and maybe even a bit shyly, and you raise an eyebrow. "W-Well, yeah, _duh!_ "

"'Duh'," you repeat, eyebrow still raised.

"Yeah, I mean," John says, his movements fumbling a little, and you feel a string of awkward babbling words coming on. "Usually, I mean, I guess I would? But we're back from the game and all, and we've only started up high school a few months ago, y'know? And wow, there's just a whole bunch of new people I've never seen before, and it's kind of overwhelming, after being used to the same people for three years!" He laughs nervously, and continues. "Not like it's a bad thing or whatever; I love you guys!" (You feel your chest tighten a bit when he says that--) "And I mean, like, there's just new people I've never met or seen and I think..." He slows down a bit to catch his breath, and he manages to get into whopping 4th place, you in 1st. You would fist pump and rub it in John's face a little, but he still wants to talk. "I think it's like, I might like someone? I'm not sure! It definitely was weird considering marrying Rose, and you marrying Jade, y'know, from Karkat's dating advice and everything!"

You snort and say, "Yeah, that turned out well."

John giggles and goes on, "But--you know what I mean, right?"

You pause for a second, and then answer with an unsure "yeah" although it sounds a lot like a question. You actually kind of don't quite get what he's trying to say entirely, but you get the gist of it.

"What I _guess_ I'm trying to say is that I might actually like someone soon! Really soon. I'm just unsure of how I feel, exactly. This new environment is just kind of opening my eyes a little."

"So that's why you asked me if I liked anyone." You make a conscious effort not to say 'girl'. You're not sure if you want John to pick up on that or not, as well.

"Well......" He finally places the GameCube controller down and stares at his feet, and you do the same. "Y-Yeah, I guess so! I mean, we're bros right? So you'd tell me if you liked someone or not and..."

"And you're asking for advice?" You say, trying to help him out with what he's trying to get across here, and even kind of shooting in the dark yourself because you are beginning to lose his point. "Dating advice. And wondering if I like someone."

"Yes and yes." He finishes, dropping his head a bit lower, shyly. You try to resist pulling him into a comforting bro hug, but instead you just make-do with pulling him over under your arm and patting him on the shoulder.

"S'alright, man. I'll help you out."

"Have you ever dated before, Dave?"

"Fuck yes I have, is that even a question, Egbert."

"Dave, we both know that is a lie and you are totally bluffing and are terrible at it!"

"Then why did you fucking ask in the first place."

John laughs and wriggles his body around till he's in a position where he can wrap his arms around you and you stiffen just a bit, _and holy shit John what the fuck are you doing ohgodohgodohfuck—_

He rests his head against your chest, even fucking _snuggling it a bit_ and you are completely unaware of the fact that you're holding your breath right now.

"Wow, Dave, you are _so_ warm. Like a human heater or something..."

"Thanks, Egbert, you're lucky this ain't costing you a single cent."

"I've got the best-bro-ever discount!"

"Damn straight."

"Hehehe."

You hold him for a bit longer, half enjoying the experience, while half flipping the fuck out. Why is John hugging you and how much _longer_ are you going to suffer because jesus christ on a fucking stick this is as awkward as hell. You decide to shut up the latter part of your brain and just enjoy the moment, as awkward and hard as it may be.

"Dave, you are not very good at hugging."

"Shut up."

He laughs into your chest softly and the vibration and heat that runs through you almost makes you fucking melt into his arms.

Finally (fucking _finally--_ ) John suggests that you tell him the advice. You graciously oblige and almost get the clothing equivalent of a paper-cut when you whip your hands off his back and into your hoodie pocket.

Your name is Dave Strider and you are giving John Egbert advice that he doesn't know is completely based off of your feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow um I think this is going to be a bit longer than five chapters.  
> oops!  
> I just have ideas for this story and they won't come out all the way within just this many chapters. I hope you guys enjoy the rest of the story!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is John Egbert and you have a massive crush on Dave Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeesh sorry for the monthly updates! this chapter was sorta hard to crank out.  
> but it seems this story has broken 1k hits!! thanks so much guys. <3  
> also, it'll be from john's POV this time. :)

Your name is John Egbert and boy, does Dave Strider do funny things to your stomach.

Not literally! But him as a person. He kinda gives you "the butterflies" and all.

You are not really sure how you feel about this!

There's a half of you that's yelling "NOT A HOMOSEXUAL" at your brain but then there's the other half that's the brain yelling "SHUT UP" back and your heart is kind of assisting in shutting up that other half of you too.

You think you're in denial.

But you can't help it! After telling Karkat three years ago that you were _definitely not a homosexual_ and then telling Jade a year after that _romance wasn't something that was really important_ , you realize now that since the Game has ended, you might have spoken way too soon.

You put two and two together, and wow, you think you may be just a _tiny bit_ homosexual, and maybe just a _tiny bit_ romantically attracted to Dave.

But only to Dave! There's just something about him that you can't really ignore. Especially since you met him for the first time tonight! You and him spent a ton of quality time tonight, but you hardly noticed the smaller things about him till it was just you and him, sitting on your balcony in the middle of the night. You had no idea he played the guitar, and you think maybe he actually doesn't, judging by his skill at playing it. You get him to keep playing the guitar even though he isn't great at it, and listen to him play it as you stare out at your neighborhood.

You sneak a peek at him a few times, when he's looking down at the guitar and not at you, which you think he almost does at one point. You watch his nimble fingers pluck at the strings of the guitar, a bit hesitant but sure when they touch them. The look on his face, the concentration, (as far as you can tell,) with his eyebrows pulled together just a tiny bit and the way he scrunches up his nose when he hits a note he didn't mean to hit. His nearly white, almost blonde hair comes down in soft, light wisps against his forehead, and when he leans down, sometimes he has to push the bangs away from his eyes; freckles brushed across his nose and cheeks, his skin pale but not ghostly, his mouth pulled into a straight line that softens at some points and the light pink lips that look really soft and really attractive and wow you kind of want to kiss them and oh shit your heart is kind of really pounding right now and you're pretty sure your face is bright red—

God damn it!

Sometimes you wish your heart wouldn't do that. Jeez.

You rub your face as if it'd help relieve it of the blush addorning it and Dave looks at you a bit quizzically before turning back to the guitar.

Later that evening while you and him were playing MarioKart, you had asked Dave for some dating advice, which took a whole lot of courage to build up and do! You had to act as normal as possible, so he wouldn't get any ideas. But when Dave spewed his Sprite across the room when you asked him if he had ever liked someone (you made a point to say 'girl', because Dave would never be gay!), it _did_ make you feel a bit better.

After a wholehearted feelings jam and brohug, he got down to business and started giving you tips. He seemed pretty experienced, despite his lack of dating. You wonder where all that knowledge on romance came from! He doesn't even watch romance movies. However, all his advice was directed towards the ah... _female persuasion_. At first it was pretty basic and some good heartfelt stuff, but now it's gotten considerably more...silly. What good is dating advice for girls when the person you like is a guy and is sitting right in front of you?!

"And never touch a chick's boob on your first date. That shit ain't cool, man." Dave states, holding the bag of cheetos to his chest, practically hugging them with one arm. He seriously won't let those things out of his sight, and you wonder if that was like, the only thing he ate back in Texas.

You roll your eyes. "Dave, I know. That's like common se—"

"Only exception is if she initiates some kind of contact like sitting on your lap and her tits are _in_ your face. Or if she strips in front of you—god knows why any chick would do that to poor 'ol virgin Egbert—but anyways then I guess you have no choice. Even still, shit ain't acceptable—"

"Dave, please." Your mouth pulls up a bit at the corner and you pap his shoulder. "I won't do that, jeez."

"Hey, you're the one who asked for dating advice." He shrugs. "Take it or leave it, bro."

Resisting another eyeroll, you sigh. "Fiiine. Keep going."

"Also, chicks dig flowers and shit. If she comes to your house, or you to hers, whatever, then bring roses or something. They like that whole sappy business, if we're talking classic girl-type-for-Egberts, and she'll practically swoon so hard she'll be falling at your feet."

"Dave, I don't think that's just for girls! I think getting roses from someone would be pretty romantic." You interject and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, sure, Egbert, but that job's for you, not the girl. They like presents and attention. If you buy her whatever she wants, she won't think that you stopped caring 'bout her."

"Wow, what."

"Yeah. Moving on—"

"Dave," you take a big breath, bracing yourself, and look at him in the eyes (shades) straight on. "what if this person isn't a girl, though? Don't different rules apply or something?"

Dave obviously wasn't expecting that because he stops talking to stare at you dumbly for a moment. You almost shrink under that stare and the silence you just created, until he opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again.

"Oh." He says finally, eyebrows above the top of his shades. "Oh, shit man, sorry. Didn't know you were..."

You feel your face heat up and you look down, shyly, scratching at the back of your neck. "Um, yeah, uh..."

"Didn't think you'd be the homosexual type, Egbert, I gotta admit. Can't help this surprise that I'm wearing right now, bro." He says carefully, and you laugh, a bit too awkwardly.

"Um, yeah."

"Thought you had the hots for Liv Tyler."

You chuckle a bit, embarrassed, and say, "Well, yeah she _is_ super attractive and everything, Dave, don't get me wrong, but..."

There's a pause.

Cheetos bag completely abandoned at his side, Dave starts wringing his hands together, which you notice. He seems restless all of a sudden. Even you too, because you start to bounce your leg a bit, even though both of them are crossed.

Dave is the first to break the silence. "...So is there someone... Or."

"Yeah," you say, your mouth a little dry, and you swallow the lump in your throat you didn't even know was there. "I think so."

"Uh," is all he says.

Shit. This is really awkward.

You mentally slap yourself in the face for being stupid enough to actually bring this up but it turns out that actually happened in reality, because oh fuck ow your cheek really stings ow—?!

Dave immediately reaches out to you, one hand on your knee and the other gripped around your sleeve, tightly. "Egbert, holy shit, what are you doing why are you slapping yourself woah okay are you alright what the fuck okay—"

"Ahahaha... Y-yeah, I'm fine, what." You cut him off, beginning to sweat a little bit because wow this is really awkward and ow your cheek really hurts and you are such an idiot why did you even do that, really?!

"Egbert," He says, almost warningly, but with a hint of worry and your breath catches in your throat when he says this.

Since when does Dave saying your name make you feel so _nervous_?

"Uh, shit, Dave, um." Almost desperate to move around to decrease the major awkward in here, you turn away from him and almost fall off the bed. You catch yourself before saying, "I'm gonna go uh, to the bathroom. I'll be right back. Yeah."

By the time your out the door already, you hear Dave clear his throat and answer with a croaked out, "sure, bro".

Almost tripping into the bathroom, you look at yourself in the mirror.

God, you look like a massive wreck!

You try to push your hair down a bit because probably during the wrestling match with Dave you had earlier it got all messed up. Smoothing it down with water doesn't exactly help so you give up and just stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face is still tinted pink and your front teeth protruding immensely, mostly because whenever you're nervous you have a bad habit of chewing on your lip. Your right cheek is turning a bright red from where you slapped yourself and holy crap did you really slap yourself that hard? You touch it with your finger, the skin tingling, and you end up pressing both hands to either side of your face.

God damn, it why are you such an idiot.

Dave probably figured it out by now, that you have a crush on him! Rose kind of already knows because she just knows everything and since she and Dave are somehow-sort-of-kinda related, you think Dave may have some sort of that ability! Shit, you are so screwed. How are you going to face him now?!

"Goooooood..." You moan into your hands, and plop yourself on the toilet seat, it creaking underneath your weight.

You wonder what Dave's doing right now. Probably eating his cheetos or doing something on his iPhone. Maybe he's waiting for you to come back? You realize you have no idea how long you've been in the bathroom so you quickly stand up to rinse your face from the sink and try to regain your wits and mangrit.

Making your way back into the room, you stop, your ears perking up almost like a dog's. (Like Jade, you think.)

You hear Dave talking to Casey.

Wow, what? You know you talk to her sometimes, but you didn't think Dave would! Who knows, maybe he talks to his own consorts. You stifle a giggle from imagining him talking to one of his nakadiles, probably challenging them to a rap-off or something.

Quietly, you lean back flat against the wall and stand there, slowing down your breaths so he won't realize you're there. Angling your head a bit closer to the door, you listen in.

"Glub glub glub glub. Glub glub."

"Y'know I don't speak salamander, right."

"Glub."

"Damn straight."

"Glub glub."

"I had crocodiles on my planet."

"Glub?"

"Nope, nak."

"Glub."

"They're hella annoying. Really pissed me off. Tried to make goddamn soup out of me."

Oh my god what?? You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh at the thought of Dave soup.

"Glub glub glub."

"Is all you do glub and blow spit bubbles? What the fuck, man."

"Glub glub glub glub glub glub!!"

"Oh shit, I forgot your name was Casey. Can't believe Egbert actually named you that after that god awful movie."

You huff under your breath quietly. Con Air won't stop being a good movie ever! You silently make note to tell Dave off for that sometime in the future.

"Glub glub glub."

"Why am I still talking to you; how long does Egbert need to take a piss, jesus fuck."

"Glub?"

"Eh. Can't believe the dude's gay." Your heart jumps at this and you feel a slight blush creep onto your cheeks. "I'm a little surprised. Actually, scratch that, I'm hella surprised. You'd have no idea."

"Glub glub..."

"Ew nasty, get your spit off of me, dude. And yeah. Wanna know something? Just be sure not to tell daddy Egbert."

You hear a slight gurgling noise and some soft whispers.

Your eyes widen and you narrow them as you attempt to get closer to the door. But no matter how hard you try without being seen, you can't seem to catch what Dave's saying to Casey! Damn it. You lean back against the wall and slide down carefully, folding your knees near your chest. Resting your head on them, you hear Dave speaking aloud again.

"I know, shit's cray. Didn't think it'd happen, huh?

"Glub."

He sighs heavily and says softly, "Fuck..."

There's a quiet pause except for the sound of bubbles popping every few seconds and you think both of them are calming down a bit. Speaking of which, your eyes are beginning to droop, and your mind's becoming a bit foggy now. How late is it? Er, early. It's probably past 4 o' clock by now. Wearily, you tell yourself you've made it far enough and that you deserve some shuteye. You're even too exhausted to pick yourself off the floor, so you remain there, your eyelids fluttering shut.

You've almost drifted into a soft slumber before hearing Dave almost so far off that you barely catch and register him saying your name to himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow writing from john's POV is way easier than dave's.  
> again, i apologize for the monthly updates! i have the next chapter all planned out; it may be a bit short and it's from john's POV again.  
> i'm almost positive that this story will end with 8 chapters total!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is John Egbert and you totally messed up that not-sleeping-at-all-tonight plan.  
> (Also, Dave is really good at humming.)

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist  [TT] at 4:16 --

TG: hey  
TG: lalonde you there  
TG: got some earth-shattering news to tell you  
TG: itll blow your panties right off  
TT: Hello, Dave.   
TG: sup ive got some news  
TT: I can see that.   
TT: But if you don't mind me asking, why are you still up at this hour.   
TG: can say the same to you lalonde  
TT: I am three hours ahead of you, Dave, it is seven in the morning over here in New York. And before you ask what I am doing up so early, I am writing one of my newest pieces.   
TG: fascinating  
TG: dont care  
TG: moving along  
TT: Sigh.   
TG: anyways yeah im still up b/c egbert fucking challenged me to an all nighter  
TG: i think  
TG: cant remember whose idea it was  
TG: but yeah were just doing some bro things right now  
TG: yknow video games and wrestling and shit  
TT: Of course. I hope your time with John has been enjoyable?   
TG: yeah thats kinda what i wanted to talk to you about  
TT: Oh? I'm all ears, Dave.   
TG: yeah get this  
TG: dudes gay i cant believe it  
TT: Oh.   
TG: "oh"  
TG: im practically flipping all my suave as fuck shit over here and youre saying fucking "oh"  
TG: cant i ever get a meaningful response out of you  
TG: nvm dont answer that  
TT: Relax, Dave.   
TT: The sole reason for my reaction is that I cannot say I am all too surprised.   
TG: what  
TG: why  
TG: why arent you surprised  
TG: egbert isnt the fucking heterosexual like we all thought he was  
TG: he himself told me like fifteen minutes ago that he was gay  
TG: do you know what this means  
TG: do you even know  
TG: how do you know this in the first place jesus fuck  
TT: Dave, hush. John has told me all of this already. I was the first person he came to when he found out himself.   
TG: what the fuck  
TG: when did this happen  
TT: About a year ago.   
TG: i  
TG: fucking  
TG: what  
TT: Yes. I know this is shocking news; I would agree and say I was shocked as well, but when he told me, even then I was not surprised. I've always had such an inkling about John.   
TG: damn you and all your pyschoanalytical bullshit  
TG: why didnt he tell me sooner  
TG: rose do you even see the issue here  
TG: he likes someone already  
TG: i dont know who but he likes someone and i have this terribad feeling its not me  
TT: Are you sure about that?   
TG: uh yeah cmon lalonde get with the fucking program  
TG: im like the hugest dick on the face of the planet egbert would never like me  
TG: fuck i bet he thinks im some huge unfeeling asshole  
TG: an even bigger asshole than him and thats sayin something  
TT: Hm. I'm going to have to disagree with you on that.   
TT: The "i bet he thinks im some huge unfeeling asshole" part.   
TT: As well as the part preceding it.   
TG: ...  
TG: what are you trying to say lalonde  
TG: do you know who he likes  
TG: damn it tell me  
TT: I'd rather not, Dave. I would hate to impose on John's more personal business.   
TG: fuck  
TG: what do i do  
TG: rose what do i do im kinda flipping the fuck out over here  
TG: shit is not cool  
TG: its as cool as harleys fucking island volcanoes ok  
TG: during winter or under a fucking iceberg millions of years ago  
TG: so lend me a hand here  
TG: in other words help  
TG: please  
TT: Sigh.   
TT: Dave, if you are so fond of John in the romantic department, and he is, in fact, a homosexual, then I don't quite understand why you are ruling yourself out.   
TT: You have just as much of a chance as any other man.   
TT: In fact, even more so. You and John have been friends for quite a while; it would not be unlikely for him to have developed a romantic interest in you. Also, on a more aesthetic aspect, as your sister and very close friend, I do believe you are quite attractive.   
TT: And I'm sure John would agree.   
TG: ew please dont say that to me ever again  
TT: Alright.   
TG: but you really think so  
TG: that hed think im  
TT: Yes.   
TT: You just need to stop fretting over such trivial nonsense, such as him not even having an ounce of feeling for you.   
TG: this isnt nonsense lalonde these are fucking hardcore feelings and emotions i am dealing with  
TG: said feelings and emotions involving a certain egbert  
TG: a stupid dorky perfect egbert  
TG: ok  
TG: this shit isnt ironic  
TG: fuck this isnt even shit  
TG: this is just  
TG: something less ironic than anything else i have ever done or seen or said in my entire life  
TG: what do i fucking do  
TT: ...   
TT: This is obviously a much bigger dilemma in your head, so I will just give you the straightest advice I've got at the moment.   
TG: alright give it to me lalonde  
TG: my body is ready  
TT: Just fucking tell him how you feel, Dave. 

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 4:31 --

TG: jesus  
TG: ughhhhhhh  
TG: lalonde you are  
TG: the worst  
TG: therapist  
TG: ever  
TG: ...  
TG: but thanks anyways  
TG: ill try out some of this choice advice  
TG: with hope egbertll feel the same  
TG: doubt it but  
TG: whatever wish me luck

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 4:33 --

Your name is John Egbert and it seems you have sleepwalked. At least, that's what you think, because you are pretty sure you fell asleep in the hallway, not in your bed! But that is where you find yourself when you wake up, roused by the soft sounds of something familiar you vaguely recognize as a guitar. Groggily, you attempt to sit up while rubbing your eyes, the covers shifting noticeably on top of you. Across the bed, you see Dave sitting there, and as you expected, playing the guitar.

He obviously noticed you were awake because within moments, he says, "Mornin', sleepin' beauty."

Before kicking him in the side as well as you can from where you are sitting, you barely pick up on how present his Texan accent was right then.

"Man, how long was I out?" You say, your words slurring a bit out of exhaustion. "And why am I here; I'm pretty sure I fell asleep in the hallway..."

"Yeah, ya' did." Dave replies with a soft chuckle, playing a sort of jazzy tune on the instrument. "By th' time twenty minutes had passed, I finally got up t' see what you were doin'. I almost opened the door on yer head but I saw your feet against th' wall first. I ended up dragging ya' back in here and just tucking y'in. You were out like a light, bro."

Embarrassed, you scratch your head. "Oh." Dave's accent is really noticeable, and you can't help but to think that you find it really sort of...charming?? It's the first time you've actually heard it being so prominent in his voice, and wow it's kind of really hard to ignore!

Dave turns to look at you, his eyes not visible beyond his shades. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make another mental note to remind him about removing them from his hidden face.

"Why were ya' there anyways? I doubt y' just collapsed on the floor; I would've heard." He looks back down at the guitar and strums a completely different tune.

"Um." You pause, searching your brain for an excuse, but come up with none. "I forget."

Dave laughs a little bit. "Y'forget? Jesus christ, Egbert."

Him saying your name gets your heart beating again, much to your dismay. Jeez, since when did this even start happening? You must have it really bad for Dave, you think.

"I can't help it! I was so tired and then it just sort of happened. I don't even remember."

"Loser."

"Hey, you fell asleep first! By the international rules of all-nighter contests, technically I win since I zonked out last."

Dave says nothing to that one, and you just grin wide.

"Heheheh, admit your defeat, Dave! You lost and I won, fair and square."

He shakes his head. "Sorry, Egbert, I'm still in this game. Mine was a fluke. You lost."

"Dave, please." You say, scooting towards the wall, clutching a pillow to your chest. "Don't be such a sore loser."

"I'm not."

You kick him in the arm, stifling a laugh, but not being able to hold back a grin. "Oh, grow up. We are so not having this conversation right now."

"Except we are. This is a thing that is happening, Egbert."

You nudge him harder, a grin splitting your face. "Nooope."

He leans back from your foot, but goes back firmly to his original position. "Fine, I lost. Happy?" He turns to look at you, the smallest of smiles on his face, and your stomach does a triple backflip.

"Y-yeah." You lean back against the wall, holding the pillow to your chest tightly, and Dave begins playing the guitar again.

It's just him playing it for a while and you listening before you pick up on the fact that his abilities have gotten better. The strings don't sound as plucky or out of place, and it actually seems like he knows what he's doing. His movements are fluid and almost expertise, but not quite. And the tune he's playing doesn't sound choppy like it did before, and you think you really, really like it a lot.

"Wow, Dave. Did you become a guitar-expert in the span of a few hours or what?"

His head twitches towards you, but he doesn't turn his head around. "What? Yeah. I...looked up some chords and practiced some shit. I'm getting pretty fucking good at this thing, huh."

"Hehe, yeah. How long was I out if you were able to get _this_ good?"

"Well, it seems to be about 6 in the morning, so I'm assuming at least two hours."

You frown and raise your eyebrows. "Oh god, what. I was asleep for that long?"

"Yeah. You slept for two hours and I slept for like, what. Forty minutes?" He turns his head around and looks at you. "Time considered, who d'ya think wins this round?"

You raise your hands in the air, defensively. "Woah, okay, okay. So maybe I slept for two hours and stuff but still. You fell asleep first."

"I'm telling you, Egbert, it was a fluke."

"You still fell asleep, Dave, oh my god!" You nudge him with your foot again, and he chuckles a bit.

"Right, okay. Anyways, I'm a great friend so I allowed you to--"

"Dave, _please_ \--"

"--win this time."

He smirks at you before turning forwards again, and you barely hold back the blush that theatens to cover your face.

"Jeez, Dave. You are literally the sorest loser on the face of the planet."

"Hey, drop it, yeah? I let you win, man."

You roll your eyes. "You didn't have to _let me_ \--"

Dave turns and gives you what you call a seriously-egbert-shut-up look, so you do.

Sighing, you lean back and get as comfortable as possible against the wall, listening to him play for a few minutes.

"So," you say, breaking the silence. "You learn any songs?"

"Yeah, 'course I did." He replies, and begins a completely new tune.

He plays it a bit shaky, and that may be because he's not perfect at guitar, but you feel like you know it.

It's something that you recognize way far back in your mind, and you can't exactly put your finger on it, but you know the chords, you know them and you can imagine playing them on the piano. You sit in silent thought for a minute or two until the last part of the song, when it begins to pick up speed and dynamic.

It doesn't click until Dave starts to hum along to the tune and it all comes back to you.

You don't interrupt him, but you know it's 'Showtime', you know it is, and you haven't played that song since your birthday three years ago when the Game happened. The song brings back a wave of nostalgia to you, memories of your dad teaching it to you, and how it was your first song you ever learned. It was a really difficult song to play, but your dad knew you could do it. When you played it for him without his help for the first time, you remember him saying he was so proud of you, and that was probably the first time you've ever felt that happy in your life. It took a lot of practice, but you haven't played it in so long, you think that you probably wouldn't be able to play it as well anymore. 'Showtime' is just one of those discarded memories from your childhood that you didn't think would ever come up again. It was all so long ago, and it feels like one long-forgotten dream, but you remember it now, and somehow, Dave does too.

Speaking of Dave--his humming--it's not singing, but it's still his voice, and _wow Dave has a really attractive humming voice?!_ It's kind of light, like feathers falling, but masculine, because Dave is sixteen now and his voice has matured more over the years, and it's smooth but he's able to manipulate it well enough so he can do funny things with it and control his vocal cords to go up and down the notes perfectly and you dont know how to explain it but wonder how he was able to learn all of this?!

You can't help but to smother your face in the pillow you're holding.

"Like it?" he says as he finishes, and your head shoots up, surprised.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I really liked it!"

He stares a bit at you but looks away, laughing quietly under his breath.

"You know what song it is?"

"Y-yeah. How did you..."

Dave gives you a look that you're pretty sure is the equivalent of him rolling his eyes. "You recorded it for me that one time, remember?" You stare blankly at Dave, trying to remember. "You were so excited you played it perfectly for the first time, so you recorded yourself and sent it to me. I still have it, you know."

"What...!" You gasp in disblief, your jaw dropping. "You still remember that?!"

"Fucking duh. what kind of friend would I be if I didn't remember your accomplishments? Even if they were pretty small ones in comparison to what we've done in the past three years." He says as if it's nothing, facing forwards again. You just stare at him, your mouth wide.

Oh man. Dave is like the best ever, you think.

"Wow. Just. Wow, Dave."

He looks at you weird. "What?"

"I dunno. I'm just. Wow. I like, forgot about that song. Until you played it. Just now."

Raising his eyebrows, he frowns. "Forgot? Something so important?"

You shrug.

"Jesus, Egbert. You're forgetting some pretty weird stuff, huh."

You laugh, and scratch your neck. "I guess. But thanks for reminding me, Dave. You played it real nice."

"It was nothing. Just a bit hard to play by ear. You're lucky I'm good at this whole music stuff."

"Haha, I guess so! Man, I can't remember the last time I sat down and played on the piano; it's been too long."

"Guess we should change that, huh." Dave says, and you nod.

You pull a blanket around your shoulders and shuffle on your knees up next to him, and plop down. His head turns slightly, but he isn't playing the guitar, his fingers paused on the strings.

"Hey. Hey, Dave."

"Huh."

"You should play something else."

"'Kay. Just for you, Egderp."

Dave starts playing a song you immediately recognize as an Animal Crossing tune.

"Dude, are you seriously--"

"Fuck yes, Animal Crossing was the shit, man. The GameCube version kicks ass."

"Dude, oh my god."

"Hey, it's easy to learn too, okay. Just a bunch of repeated guitar chords and shit." He plays whatever time it is, and you just listen, laughing into his shoulder.

"You're so lame, oh man."

"Excuse me, are you insulting the amazingness that is Animal Crossing? It's not like I've played shitty video games all my life. My love for this game ain't even ironic, dude."

You just laugh a bit more and rest your cheek there because wow, you think Dave's shoulder is really comfortable and you're a bit tired of holding your head up straight.

"Just shut up and keep playing, Dave, it's real nice."

"Yessir." Dave chuckles and you think you maybe feel him tilt his head a bit down against yours, just a bit so his hair is touching yours, not even your face, but the thought of being this close to Dave makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

And you guess he must know you like it, because soon he starts to hum along, even if ironically. But you don't care, and obviously you stopped caring about the all-nighter contest, (you "won" anyways,) because you contently fall asleep on his comfy shoulder.

Your name is John Egbert and god, you love Dave Strider a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a bit of pesterlog-formatting-mishap I've been dealing with for the past hour but hopefully it looks okay!  
> (ugh kill me now.)  
> also i like to think dave's accent kicks in when he gets nervous (i.e., when john woke up.) otherwise, he usually tries to cover it up and stuff.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Dave Strider and holy /shit/.

Your name is Dave Strider and you're gonna do it. You're gonna tell him. After four-five years of agony and him saying 'no homo' endless times, you're gonna tell John Egbert that you are in love with him. He is the only guy for you. No hot chicks or dudes that would probably not even nearly match your coolkid demeanor—no, sir, that job would belong to the dorky, buck-toothed, pretty much socially-rejected with a really, _really_ shitty taste in movies that actually wears socks to bed Egbert. Which, you guess in retrospect, makes it seem kind of ironic but that makes it all the more perfect for you, 'cause you really wouldn't have it any other way. Also, Egbert's just the one for you; only he can do the things he does to your heart, to your kokoro—maybe that's how you should tell him, say, " _Hey Egbert, you make my kokoro go dokidoki_ " or maybe not, because he'd probably laugh and think you were joking. But wait. What if he doesn't like you back? That'd be a shittonne of embarrassment, also considering that you're pretty much staying here for a while. You think you've got practically nothing to lose; besides, if you like him and he doesn't, at least he'll understand 'cause apparently he's a homosexual too. _Shit_ , there's that too, what if he DOES like you? Holy shit fucking christ oh my god I don't even want to think about that okay back to the other topic—yes, you are going to tell him, you are going to tell him, god fucking damnit, you are going to tell John Egbert you love him and it is completely unironic and completely heartfelt so he better not laugh and think you're kidding 'cause you swear to God you will actually punch him in the face if he does that.

Too bad he's sleeping.

God damnit.

It looks like he fell asleep on your shoulder when you were playing and humming some Animal Crossing tunes to entertain him 'cause he asked you to play something else, but here he is, sleeping. And hey, you're pretty tired too. It's 7 in the morning, and this was pretty much a fail of an all-nighter but you had fun, so you tell yourself it's alright. For the second time tonight, you carefully maneuver yourself in a position that allows you to get him to the pillows without waking him up, and attempt to tuck him in. Casey's curled up at the foot of the bed, so you have to make sure you don't wake her up either, until you remember John telling you she only falls asleep in his arms. With a silent groan, you lift her up carefully, (holy shit, she's fucking heavy) and place her next to Egbert. Right as you manage to get yourself in next to him and Casey, his eyes flutter open, unfocused, not really looking at anything. You stop cold, your arm frozen midair as it holds the comforter right over yourself, and he blinks a few times, sleepily.

"Dave?"

You drop the covers on yourself, still leaning on your right elbow. "Sup."

"Mmmmnnhh..." He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and rubs them for a moment. "Shi...t...did I fall asleep again......?"

You sigh inaudibly. "Yeah. Way to go, Egbert, you won the all-nighter contest, congrats."

He lazily punches you and mumbles 'shut up', you cracking a grin.

"I can't help it...! I've been having too much fun and not enough sleep."

"Are you sure 'bout that? I think you got four times as much sleep than I did and I ain't complainin'."

"Dave, please. You never sleep at normal hours."

"Hey, I'm usually asleep at this time. You're just being a wuss."

"I am not a wuss!!" He says, nudging you and laughs, and suddenly your arm feels hypersensitive to his touch, and your ears to his voice. His smile, his face, his eyes are even smiling, every thing about him is definitely glowing, even though you know he's tired as shit, but he's still glowing, he's about a few inches from your face, and it's just you and him lying down in his bed, and oh my _god_ you have to tell him—

You swallow. "H-Hey," shit you stuttered and your voice cracked a tiny bit. "Egber—"

"Daaave!!" John whisper-screams and your entire body flinches slightly, your eyes widening behind your shades. "Dave, that is no fair, oh my god."

"Wh. What's not fair?" You ask, your accent sneaking into your voice, and still shocked by his (rude) interruption and exclamation.

John points to your shades and scrunches up his mouth, his eyebrows pulled together. "You promised me you would take off your shades!"

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'! Come on, do it! Before you start being lame and fall asleep on me."

You roll your eyes and mumble, "Like you haven't done that to me tonight."

"Hey, I am not lame. Just do it, c'mon!"

"Jesus, fine, god." You say, pushing his hands away. All the commotion seems to wake up Casey, and she starts to blow spit bubbles again.

"Oh no! Casey, did Dave wake you up?"

"Wow, fuck you."

John sticks his tongue out at you as he lifts Casey up in his arms and you roll your eyes. While he places Casey on the other side of himself, you decide now would be a good time to take off your shades since he's not looking. Your hands shaking a tiny bit, you slowly grip the arms of the glasses and pull them off. The morning light sneaking in through the blinds covering up your windows shines directly in your face, making your eyes hurt like a bitch. You squint hard, trying not to strain them too much; but jesus, maybe doing this all now wasn't a great idea. You have sensitive eyes, and that's pretty much half the reason why you wear the shades. If only people knew that before going around making accusations and assumptions about your eyes, "hiding your inner feelings", or whatever shit they think it is.

Right after you fold them up and place them on the spot beside you, you turn back to find John staring at you, his face full of silent awe.

You first reaction is to be nervous, but you are a man on a mission tonight, (morning, you remind yourself,) and play it cool. "Like what you see, Egbert?"

John gapes a few moments, leaning forward to get a better look at your eyes, and you find yourself shifting your gaze down because fuck, this is embarrassing, and not only can he see your eyes, but probably all the stupid freckles you have on your face that no one usually sees because of your shades.

There's a complete moment of silence with John just staring at your eyes and you're body is so stiff and you're not moving but are practically screaming to move somehow; you're so anxious, holy fuck, what is he going to _think_ about your freaky red eyes oh god oh fuck oh god oh _fuck_.

After about a long, unbearable thirty seconds, he finally whispers quietly, as if he were telling you some dirty secret he didn't want Casey to hear, "Dave......Your eyes are..."

"Red." You finish, closing your eyes with a silent huff. "Great observation, Egbert, would you like a medal for that?"

John rolls his eyes and grins at you. "Yeah, but they're _red_ , Dave!"

"And yours are blue."

"I've never seen red eyes before, oh wow."

"And I've never seen blue eyes."

John rolls his eyes again. "Dave, stop it. It's incredible, okay. Why do you wear shades all the time even?" He points out with his hand, and you sigh, relaxing your stiff muscles.

"Sensitive eyes."

John's face drops a little, and he retracts his hand as if he was stung. "O-Oh. I..."

"It's fine." You say, pushing the bangs away from your eyes out of habit, only making it easier to see your weird, mutant eyes. "It's not much of an issue if I wear the shades."

Something flickers across John's face, but you don't know what it is. You choose to ignore it. He lowers his eyes, shifting on his left side.

"You should wear them off more often," he says quietly, and you raise an eyebrow. He looks back at you from under his eyelashes, (holy fuck, his eyes are the bluest you've ever seen, you think as your heart practically leaps out of your chest,) and gives you a buck-toothed smile. "Your eyes are so pretty, Dave."

You are definitely not turning red right now.

"Dude, are you blushing? Oh my god, you're totally blushing aren't you, oh my god."

"Shut the fuck up, I'm not blushing." You spit, downcasting your gaze, and John snorts. "Blushing is for little girls like you, Egbert, and last time I checked, I was 100% man. I—"

He cuts you off before you can go any further, "I am not a girl, nor am I little. I'm like, an inch shorter than you, so you can just shoosh!" John says back, playfully, his eyes smiling again, and you heave, your chest tight. You still need to tell him.

You try to retort with something witty that you'd usually say, but your voice catches in your throat so you make a quiet, strangled noise instead. You're acting so much less cool than usual. Of course, only John does this to you. Go fucking figure.

A silence falls upon both of you, you staring at his sheets, his hands, anything but his face, because without the protection of your shades, he can actually see where you're looking. And you're pretty sure he's still looking at you.

Time to say it, Strider.

"Hey, Egbert..." You are surprised by how steady your voice is, despite the fact you're as nervous as fuck. Your heart is stuck in your throat, and your palms are sweaty as you push your hair back, nervously, anxious to move.

He beats you to it.

"Dave, can I kiss you?"

There is a split second of your heartbeat in your ears and you staring at his face, blank as slate. Your pulse is so loud in your ears you don't think you even heard him properly.

So the only intelligent thing that you end up saying is, "...What."

John turns a bright shade of red and covers his face with his hands, trembling. "Oh god, wow, did I really just ask you that? Jeez, forget I said anything, that was totally embarrassing and unnecessary!!! Wow, okay, I'm an idiot, okay, wow, um."

You're actually dumbstruck by this, holy fuck. What is John saying to you did he actually just ask what you think he asked--

"Wait, Egbert, I—"

"Oh jeez, Dave, I'm sorry, I already creeped you out enough tonight, haven't I? Don't even listen to me, I'm such an idiot, wow, jeez!!" John laughs nervously, hiding his face into the pillow he's on, and you are actually about to explode because oh my fucking god, did he just ask to kiss you what is going _on_ you need to do something about this, you need to kiss him, hold him, you need to tell him, _tell him you much love him—_

"John, holy flipping christ, shut the fuck up for one goddamn second—"

"Woah," John says suddenly, his mouth the shape of an 'o', and you stop abruptly, everything in you goes cold, with the two of you just staring at each other in disbelief.

"Did you actually just call me...'John'...?"

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 7:26 --  
GG: pssssssssst daaaave!!!!  
GG: rose told me about what youre going to do hehehehehe!  
GG: i dont know where you are right now...........  
GG: but you better kiss john, ok dave???  
GG: i knooooow he likes you dave :B  
GG: and i know you like him too!!!!  
GG: just tell him how you feel, ok???????????  
GG: good luck!!! :D ;D

Your name is Dave Strider and you have no idea what to do with yourself, so you decide to just throw all caution to the wind (ha-ha) and crush your mouth against John Egbert's, the dorky boy you are horribly in love with, and see how terribly fucked you end up as.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really shitty way to end the chapter im sorry...,  
> also its gonna be ten chapters not eight i lied  
> aarrrRHHh...


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short, but confessions happen.

Your name is John Egbert and holy shit oh my god wHAT IS GOING ON!!!!!!!!

\---

Your name is Dave Strider and wow you are actually kissing John and you think you are one second away from shitting your pants.

You don't of course because that would defintely ruin this monumental moment of no-homo-history, because if when you look back on this in a few hours you'll realize that yep, this is pretty yes-homo. Especially for Mr. John "Not-A-Homosexual" Egbert, who actually turns out to be a homsosexual. Point still stands.

It's awkward, kissing him for the first time. It's a lot of teeth-bumping and glasses-knocking-and-clacking into your face, and neither of you know what to do with your hands, or limbs, for that matter. But overall, it is pretty amazing because jesus fucking christ, you are kissing the love of your life and _wow_ that is all you have to say. Wow.

It's a pretty chaste kiss, and maybe you're overreacting, but you think John is kind of putting most of the gusto into it, if that's possible for a "chaste kiss". You're kind of scared out of your mind, even though you _knew_ he wanted to kiss you, (he fucking _asked—_ ) but you feel like you're a fragile, glass ball, and he's walking on a tightrope holding you on a spoon like in one of those egg drop races or whatever they're called. Point is, you're feeling pretty vulnerable right now.

You open your eyes slowly to his, those bright blue orbs and dark lashes blinking at you, and it's like a knock to the face, and you break from him, just to gawk at him, because damn, if he isn't the most beautiful person you've ever met in your life.

You stare at him in an after-kiss shock, and he stares right back, neither of you saying a thing but breathing just a little hard, and you're not sure if that's your heartbeat you're hearin' or his.

He's the first to break the silence.

"Dave...Dave, holy _shit_."

"John," you say his name like it's the first time, and it feels weird and foreign on your tongue, but you _like_ it a whole damn lot.

"Dave, I...uh." John, at a loss for words, chews his lip and downcasts his eyes, and if he isn't the epitome of adorableness, then you don't know what is. He shifts awkwardly, and then it finally sets in that you just kissed, and if you didn't know better, you're pretty sure that that was a confession.

You lean up on your right elbow, brushing your bangs aside and letting out a huge breath you didn't know you were holding.

"So, yeah. That just happened." You say, and John audibly swallows, then lets out a shaky 'yeah'.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think it's pretty clear what just happened here. That being we have a thing for each other."

"Um. Yeah."

"John, quit being so nervous, it's making me nervous."

He looks at you instantly, eyes filled with worry. "Jeez, I'm sorry, Dave, I'm just! Really. Really nervous." He goes back to chewing his lip, and you roll your eyes. You wonder when it'd be a good time to start hugging the shit out of this kid.

"Looks like we're on the same page, then."

"Dave, I think I love you!" He suddenly blurts out, and you stifle back a laugh, because wow, he made that confession so much more dorky than it should have been.

"Yeah, I gathered that much."

He turns bright red, and you chuckle a bit at that.

Now would be the correct time for totally-not-no-homo-but-indeed-yes-homo-love-cuddles.

Pulling him into your arms, you laugh into his hair, "Yeah, I love you too, man."

"Dave, you calling me by my first name makes me nervous." John says, tentatively wrapping his arms around you too, his legs tangling together with yours, and you are vaguely reminded of those weird octopus things Jade's obsessed with.

"Would you prefer it if I used something else? Sweetie? Babe? Honey? Humminburr?"

John laughs right damn next to your ear, and it's pretty much the best thing you've ever heard in your life. "Oh my god, you just referenced Con Air, I really hope you know that."

"Fully intended, sweetheart."

He laughs again, snuggling into your chest, and you think you'd really like to get used to this.

"Wow, why didn't I tell you this like, years ago." He laughs softly into your chest, and you think you fucking melt right there.

"What."

John pulls away from you and stares at you with his gorgeous blue eyes wide. "Oh. Uh, I. Yeah."

"...How long." Is all you say, and John looks away bashfully.

"Uh, I dunno, since like. When we were twelve?"

"John, holy shit, four years?!" You say incredulously, and he rolls his eyes.

"Well, three of them were spent playing an apocalyptic game which really would not be a good time to drop the whole hey-I-think-I'm-in-love-with-you,-wanna-go-out? bomb, huh?" He half-jokes, and you agree with the nod of your head.

"Yeah, I guess that's true. But damn, John, I love your stupid dorky assholey butt."

"Only my butt?"

"And your face, god your face."

"Wow, haha, is that all?"

"Okay, fine, pretty much all of you. But yeah, definitely your butt."

John laughs, "Gay." and then kisses you on the nose and pulls you into another snuggle-cuddle-hug which is totally a thing that is going to happen a whole fucking lot more often now.

"And for the record, I love everything about you, too, homo completely intended."

"Same here, babe."

He buries your face into the space between your chin and collarbone and sighs deeply there.

"Dave, you smell terrible."

"John, shut up, and let's just get our mad snuggles on. I want to sleep."

"Oh, now you do, huh? I dunno if I can let that happen!"

"You better let it happen, unless you want your ass to wind up on my front doorstep."

"Dave, this is _my_ house. Your point is invalid, so shut up."

"Mmm, fine. Only 'cause I'm too exhausted to fight with you."

John mumbles 'shoosh' and lightly kisses your collarbone, and you gladly oblige.

Both of you end up settling for shutting up and sleeping, and lo and behold, John falls asleep first. Before you do, though, you decide to drop your beloved pseudo-sis a line.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 7:43 --

TG: so hey  
TG: thanks for the advice lalonde  
TG: mission fucking accomplished  
TG: and thats really all there is to say on the matter

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 7:44 --

TT: Congratulations, Strider. I wish you the best of luck in your new relationship with John.

Your name is Dave Strider and today is definitely the best day of your entire fucking life.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is John Egbert and oh boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING this is the last chapter and it's REALLY SAPPY AND HAPPY AND STUFF and its kind of an epilogue sorta????  
> you have been warned.

Your name is John Egbert and you are a lot of things, but right now, you're nervous, excited, and anxious, all at once.

It's months after you last saw Dave, which happened to be the visit when you both confessed your UNDYING LOVE for each other. That visit promptly ended with many hugs, cuddles, and kisses between you and him, and much snickering from your Dad and pestering from Jade and Rose. Those guys just love to poke fun at you, especially Dave, since he gets so wound up about it and all embarrassed. (It's kind of adorable, but no one is supposed to know you think that.) You're actually a bit worried about how Dave is holding up over there in Texas. You imagine his bro is giving him a really hard time about it. Dave told you to expect a package of condoms from his bro at any moment, and heck, a smuppet might be added into the mix. This left you feeling particularly awkward and flustered, but if you're being totally honest with yourself, you can't say you're too opposed to the idea... But not with the smuppets! Ew, jeez.

Anyways! So now that you're on break from school and it's about a week from your birthday, it was the perfect opportunity for Dave to drop by, so yeah, of course you're really excited! But you're also really nervous, because despite all the video and voice chats you and him have had over the past several months, (eight, to be exact!) you haven't seen him in person once, which is a bit crazy to think about! You would have went over to Texas for his birthday, but there was a lot of shit going on with the weather and the way both of your Christmas breaks lined up and it just didn't seem to work at the time. (You both settled for a looong video chat and it was just as romantic as it could've been if you were there with him in person!)

After some planning and lots of money-saving, you helped him get enough cash to buy a ticket to Washington so you could finally celebrate and have some time together. Man, are you excited! You're pretty sure Dave is too, 'cause even though you know he tries _desperately_ to keep his poker face in tact, over the past few weeks, you've noticed in your webcam chats that he's been smiling a whole lot more than usual. Which of course could only mean one thing!

Today, April 7th, 2013, was the decided date of his arrival. He left early this morning, so his plane should arrive here a bit before noon. And right now, it's 11:29!! So you're basically shitting your pants out of your own nervousness and excitement.

Oh. And you forgot one detail.

As soon as he arrived, you were going to embark on a totally yes-homoromantic-date! (No irony allowed. Or smuppets, Dave added.) Like, not one of the movie dates that you think are totally fine for a romantic date, oh no, Dave INSISTED that you and him go to a super fancy resturant in suits and everything! So you had to somehow resize one of your suits (you chose your wise guy suit!) from The Game and rid it of the blood that dried on it years before. It was no simple feat, but you got the job done after lots and lots of scrubbing, and a hella of a lotta soap.

For what seems like the hundredth time, you check your wristwatch, fix the lapels on your coat, brush microscopic dust particles off your pants, and fix the cuffs of your sleeves. You decided that wearing the gloves would be pushing it, but man do you love those gloves! You reluctantly leave them on the arm of the sofa.

Jeez, you can't stop shaking from excitement! Or anxiety? Man, you don't know, you're just so pumped to see Dave again! You wonder if he grew at all. You know you grew maybe a few more centimeters, and your hair grew out a bit more but it's still as untameable as ever! Dumb hair. Dave says he likes your hair, that it fits you. You hope it does, 'cause you don't think even if you cut it and style it, it'll ever change.

And then finally, the moment you were shitting your pants over...

There's a knock at the door. Two of them, to be precise, evenly spaced, as if on a beat of it's own. You almost expect another few but there's only two.

You stand immediately, but find that you can't use your legs as well as you thought you could. There's another two knocks, same as before. You force your stupidity to go away and just move over to the door and open it, which you manage with a shaking hand.

You slowly open the door to Dave's face, and he's smiling a small smile, which makes your heart near burst into little bits and pieces of heart mush. He's still wearing the dumb shades you got him nearly four years ago, and you can see the light freckles dotting his cheeks, and his whitish-blonde hair mussed but not messy like yours, and he's taller, you note, and JEEZ if he isn't as amazing as you remember!!

"Dave!!" You practically shout, and you reach out to hug him immediately, wrapping your arms around him. He returns the action instantly, and the two of you share a warm embrace, the smile you're currently sporting near splitting your face in two.

"Hey, John. I see you're excited."

You lean away from him, your mouth twitching up on the side as you eye him playfully. "Yeah, and you're definitely not! I can totally FEEL the excitement coming from you Dave, you're practically oozing it!"

"Please, man, Striders don't ooze excitement." You nudge him in the ribs and he ruffles your hair. "We ooze pheromones and love for a certain Egbert."

You grin up at him, not even caring that all your stupid teeth are showing.

"Well," He says, lifting his head in thought. "This one here does," he points to himself with his thumb. "If Bro had a thing for you, I'd say I'd have to kick his ass into next week."

You embrace Dave again, not being able to keep too long from his immutable warmth and coolness and love and _Daveness_ and say, "Yeah, I don't think I want your older brother crushin' on me. That's just a bit creepy, and a lot of Strider for a guy to handle."

Dave spreads his arms out, his fingers splayed. "Well, Egbert, I hope this is enough Strider for you."

"The perfect amount!"

"Oh, I got something for you." Dave turns around and you try to look over him.

"You got me something? Aw, damn it, Dave, I don't have anything for you, jeez..."

Dave rustles around in a bag of his before replying. "Nah, don't sweat it, man. All I would ever need is you."

You smile. "Way to be sappy, Dave."

"Well then prepare yourself for a whole fucking sugar maple tree, baby, I got something incredible for you that'll make you shit your pants."

"But I've already been shitting my pants all day!"

"Like I said, prepare yourself." Dave flips around with his hand wielding what you think is.........

You raise an eyebrow. "Um, are those supposed to be roses?"

"100% shitty and in authentic JPEG format." He hands them to you, and you nearly drop them; why are these so hard to hold?!

"Dave. You are the hugest goof ever, oh my god." You grin, and he shrugs.

"Hey, never said that was it."

"Huh?"

He then proceeds to hand you what are _actual_ roses, actual, honest-to-good red roses!

"Wow, Dave, you WERE right, this is so sappy, but oh my gosh..." You can't help but to smile uncontrollably, and he even looks pretty pleased with himself.

"Yeah, I dunno, I just remembered you telling me that you thought giving roses to someone was romantic. That's pretty much it."

You look up at him in surprise with your eyes wide, because again, Dave remembers something so small and trivial that you said... Even though he's such a forgetful person! The thought that though Dave is so forgetful but makes an effort to remember things for your sake is just...really nice of him.

"Wow... Thanks, Dave..." You say, looking at the flowers again. You'll have to find a vase and a place for these. You think you'll ask Jade for some tips on that.

After another few seconds, Dave leans down and catches your lips in one swift kiss. It's short and sweet, but again, sweet, and you can't help but to smile softly against his lips. He leans back awkwardly afterwards, scratching the back of his neck.

And in that moment right then and there, you're so overwhelmed and full of love for this one boy, this one guy you met on the internet by complete and total happenstance, and you've never been more in love, never been more happy. All this emotion starts in the pit of your stomach, and it just pushes up from your heart and into your toes and you basically collide into Dave, abandoning the roses to the floor, and just capture your own lips with his in what you think is probably one of the more heated kisses you and him share. You hold his face between your face and he places his own on top of yours and squeezes them gently and you are prompted to just deepen the kiss. But before any sexy tongue-action happens, you think your overenthusiam is hilarious to Dave because eventually his smile turns into a full-out grin and he just laughs into your face, and you've got to say; there are only a few instances when you've heard Dave laugh, (not including your tickle fights!) and this is one of the few. Each time is like a gem, special and perfect in its own way and it never ever gets old, and is basically the best sound you've ever heard in your entire life. Because you know that when Dave is laughing, he's laughing because he's happy, and he's happy _with you_ , and that breaks your heart and puts it back together again in a more perfect way, and you really couldn't be happier.

So even though his laugh in your face breaks the kiss and his breath doesn't really smell pleasant at all, (like seriously Dave, did you eat days-old Chinese take-out before coming here???) you just can't help but to grin at him more, just so utterly and immutably _happy_.

"Dave, fuck, I, I love you so much, oh my god." You say, out of breath but your eyes sparkling, and Dave shakes his head to get the hair out of his face and pushes the shades up on his head and just looks at you, and now not only can you hear the happiness in his voice, but you can see it in his eyes, in his red eyes that he's so self conscious about, and maybe he's squinting a bit because it's bright outside and it must be hard to see, but his eyes are smiling and he's just as happy as you are.

"Love you too, John," He smiles for real, pressing his forehead against yours and you just close your eyes and breathe in his scent. A sort of cinnamon-y smell but with a boyish twinge to it and overall it's just so Dave and you _love_ it. "A lot."

His hands slide down your arms and grasp your own, and you just hold hands for a long moment before you notice the dropped roses on the ground, half in your house, and half out the door.

"So," you start, gesturing to the flowers with your head. "since you brought me the roses, does that make me the girl in the relationship?"

Dave chuckles with a shrug. "I guess so."

"Damn it, that's so lame. I'm so much more manly than you are."

"Hey now, we're not venturing into there. You're the lady, and I'm the man, let's just leave it at that." He says, waving his hand back and forth, and you let your buckteeth poke out a bit in a pout, but end up sighing.

"Fine, god. You're always so stubborn about things like this."

"Can't help it, bro."

"Jeez." You smile and then pick up the roses. "So, should we get started on that date of ours or what?"

Dave grins, shoving his hands into the pockets of his maroon pants. "Yeah. But first I should unload my shit in here. It's still out there on your lawn." He nods to the side, and yeah, he's right. You better go grab his bags before someone else does.

"Alright, dude, let's get this done and over with. I'm starving!" You reach for his hand but he grabs yours before you can his. You smile at him, and he does too, which makes your heart explode from happiness for the umpteenth time today.

Your name is John Egbert and damn, do you love Dave Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow jeez ok i hope you guys all liked this!!! this was my first johndave story and i had lots of fun writing it and it got a lot more recognition than i thought it would, so thanks everyone aaahh!! so despite my lack of writing skills and the fact they were probably really ooc, i hope you enjoyed it and everything uwu <333


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